Fools
by MissingMommy
Summary: Love makes fools of us all, Albus. Surely you know that by now. :: Albus/Gellert.


For Quidditch League, round 4 with the pairing Albus/Gellert and the extra prompts of "Lesson learnt?", stupid and addiction. So many thanks to Nami for the help with the plot and to my cousin, Anthony, for a bit of help.

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Albus stares at the boy sitting across from him. He sees how sunshine hair falls perfectly into azure orbs, sees how pink lips forms words so effortlessly. The boy is beautiful.

"You're staring, Albus," he says lazily. There's a softness in his eyes that contradicts the smirk playing on his lips. His voice is sweet, pleasant and soothing, and Albus can't help but think that he could listen to him talk forever.

A blush crosses Albus' cheeks as he ducks his head, attempting to hide it. He should've known that nothing would have gotten by Gellert; he notices too much, much more than Albus would like him to, anyways.

Amusement lights up Gellert's eyes as he leans closer to Albus. Albus' heartbeat races in his chest as it always does when he's in close proximity to Gellert. But otherwise, Albus doesn't react, focusing on his hands that he folded in his lap. He feels a cool finger under his chin, lifting his head. He can't seem to suppress the stutter that runs through his body at the contact.

Albus, ever the Gryffindor, lifts his eyes to meet Gellert's. "Do I affect you that much?" Gellert asks, his voice no higher than a murmur. Behind the amusement, Albus sees something that he's not sure he wants to put a name to.

"No," Albus lies. He's sure that Gellert can hear his heart pounding in his chest, can see the blush crossing his otherwise pale cheeks, can feel the shiver that passes through his body at the briefest touch.

An almost cruel smile flashes on Gellert's face as he leans in. Albus holds his breath. With Gellert's lips against his ear, Albus hears him whisper, "Liar. I think I affect you more than you'd like to admit."

"You do not," Albus replies. But his voice is unsteady, causing Gellert to grin as he pulls back.

"Prove it. Prove that I don't affect you," Gellert commands. When Albus gives him a questioning look, Gellert leans back further, getting a good look of him. "Kiss me."

Albus inhales sharply. He's about to protest, about to say that kissing him will prove nothing, when the part of him, the part that wants to know how Gellert's lips feel against his own, forces him forward. Before he can give it more thought, his eyes slip shut as his lips meet Gellert's and his hands tangle in sunshine hair. The taste of Gellert's lips is addicting.

When Gellert pulls away, Albus slowly opens his eyes, not wanting the kiss to end. He meets Gellert's gaze; in place of the amusement is smugness. Behind the smugness, he sees a hint of something else – cruelty, perhaps or maybe madness. And Albus knows that Gellert knows.

"That's what I thought," Gellert says but Albus doesn't like the tone his voice takes. There's a brief pause before Gellert continues on with what he was saying before he caught Albus starting. Albus just sits there, vaguely listening and wondering if Gellert will use his desires against him.

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Albus watches as Gellert lifts his head at the sound of metal scraping against the floor. Gellert smiles at the sight of Albus, a cruel, bitter one that reminds Albus nothing of the boy he used to be.

"Albus," he greets. His voice is scratchy, causing Albus to flinch slightly. "What brings you here?"

Closing the prison door behind him, Albus stands in front of Gellert. Gellert's once sunshine hair has long since faded to gray and his azure eyes no longer shine with amusement, but with insanity. He is just a shell of the man he used to be, and guilt twinges at Albus' heart. He aided this. He aided Gellert on his way to madness.

Albus holds up his black, charred hand. "To make peace with my sins."

Gellert's expression twists into a smirk. "Then you are a stupid, foolish man, as you've always been."

Taking a step forward, Albus leans down to whisper, "You know who cast the spell that killed Ariana, don't you?"

"Isn't this surprising?" Gellert asks off-handily. "There used to be a time that you couldn't be near me without blushing like a schoolgirl. Now look at you: trying to intimidate me." He laughs. The sound echoes in the small cell.

"I was, as you said, nothing more than a stupid man. But I have learned from my mistakes," Albus tells him. "You, on the other hand, never have and never will."

Gellert leans forward slightly, invading Albus' personal space, trying to get a rise out of him. "Learnt your lesson?" he asks. "Fools never learn from their mistakes, Albus. You are as weak as you've ever been, thinking that love is the most powerful weapon in the world. Did love save Ariana that night? Did love prevent Aberforth from leaving you, from hating you?"

There's a flash of anger in Albus' eyes, fury that Gellert has never seen. For half a moment, Gellert wonders if he finally pushed Albus too far. "Love makes fools of us all, Albus. Surely you know that by now."

When Albus speaks next, his voice is tight. "What do you know of love, Gellert? It may make fools out of us, but it's even more foolish to dismiss it so easily. I was foolish to love you, to follow you so blindly. But it's because I was stupid, that I am wise. Wisdom comes from experience, Gellert, and there are some lessons that I have learned well."

Gellert's harsh laugh rebounds in the cell. He's about to speak again, when Albus cuts him off. "Despite your belief, I didn't come here to remember the past. I just want to know who killed Ariana. You owe me that much."

"I owe you nothing," Gellert replies cruelly. He gestures around him. "Or are you forgetting that I'm only here because of _you_?"

Albus nods, surprisingly unsurprised. "I didn't expect you to tell me." He turns on his heels, and heads for the door. Gellert's voice stops him.

"Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. It won't stop the guilt and I'm sure you alright know that; that's why you're not pushing it." But Albus can hear the unspoken words: _I don't want you weighed down with the guilt of murdering your sister_.

"Goodbye, Gellert," he whispers as he leaves.

He barely hears Gellert murmur, "Goodbye, Albus." It's in a soft, affectionate voice, one that causes Albus to brush it off. Gellert never cared about Albus.

But there's a voice in the back of his head, whispering that Gellert did care enough not to tell him who killed Ariana for fear of hurting Albus.

**A/n – so many thanks to Joanna for beta-ing this.**


End file.
